Wolves. (Sallarry/ salxlarry)

Twenty-six

Day 2
Today was better, I guess. Being outside last night helped, fresh air.
It's not as depressing here as I thought it would be, actually. Don't get me wrong, I want to leave.
I'm so used to being able to get up in the morning and go to the basement to Larry, walking to school with him, holding his hand, getting kisses, hugs, his voice, the way he's so good to me.
I hate this. I hate that I'm so weak. I hate that out of everything that I've been through I let a stupid boy push me over the edge.
A weak faggot.
I would take him back in a heartbeat, I miss him.
-Sal

I slammed the journal shut, pushing it off of my bed. It wasn't a comfortable bed, either. The wooden board under the thin ass mattress made my back sore.

On the wall beside of the bed, I hung up a Sanity's Fall poster, one I got for my birthday.. I laid my head down on the pillow and stared at the poster. My prosthetic sat on my stomach.

For some reason, I felt like crying. No, not for some reason, I knew why.

Just as tears were swelling, my door got knocked on. I lurched up and quickly buckled on my prosthetic, "Come in!"

Baxter opened the door, "Hey, Sal."

Baxter was a short, asian man. Despite being short, he was buff.

"Hi, Mr. Baxter." I replied, fixing my hair around the buckles around my head.

"You've got a phone call, are you good to answer?" He leaned into the door frame, they weren't allowed to come into our rooms without another staff present.

Must be Dad, he said he would call when he got the chance.

"Uh, yeah." I said, stepping out of the bed and slipping my feet into my unlaced shoes.

The phone was a wall phone right outside of the staffing office, and we only get 10 minutes.

"Go ahead and pick it up, he's waiting." Baxter nodded at the phone, sitting in a wooden chair across from me.

The phone was cold when it touched my cheek, "Dad?"

Muffled, but audible, "Larry."

My heart sank into my stomach, then rose to my throat. How did he know where I was? I told Dad before I left to make sure Larry and Lisa and NO ONE had any idea what I'd done.

"Sal?" He said, after a minute.

"Yeah?" My voice trembled.

He didn't speak for a second, "Is this my fault?" He sounded like he'd been crying, he kept sniffing and taking deep breaths.

Yes. No. I dont know.

"No.." I hold my stomach with one hand and the phone in the other, "Why did you call me?"

"I miss you." He sobs, "I miss your voice."

He hurt me so bad. So so bad. But my heart aches to hear him cry.

"Larry.."

"I-I'm sorry- I hate myself. I'm s-so sorry, S-Sal-"

I interrupted his sobbing, "Why did you do it?"

He didn't say anything for a long time, "I don't know."

"Is it my face?" I glanced up, Baxter held up five fingers to signal the time I had left.

"N-no.. It had nothing to do with you I-I'm just an asshole."

"Yeah.." My stomach hurt so bad, I miss him so much.

"I'm so sorry-" he broke down crying again, "I can't lose you!"

"I miss you, Larry." I said quietly, not knowing if I regretted this decision or not.

"Y-you were dead, because of me.." I could hear him sniff again, "I can't stand myself."

"Larry? Did you hear me?"

He swallowed hard enough I could hear it, "No," he sounded congested, "What?"

"I said I miss you." I repeat, a little louder this time.

I imagined how he looked right now, red nose, teary eyes, because he was sorry.. and missed me..

"I miss you so much, Sal." He whispered.

"Sal," Baxter said, "Times up."

I bit my lip and nodded, "Larry? Look, I've gotta go."

"No- wait,"

"I don't have time, I've gotta go." I said, taking the phone from my ear.

"Sal! I lo-" I placed the phone on the hook.

Baxter smiled and stood up, "How'd it go?" He asked me as we walked back to my room.

"Fine, I guess." I shrugged and stepped inside, "Is it okay if I take a nap?"

He thought for a moment, "Uh.. yeah, sure! Group in 45 minutes, though.."

"I'll be up... I just didn't sleep well last night."

He nodded and wished me a nice nap before he left. I shut the door behind him and sat on the rock hard bed, pulling my knees to my chest.

This is what I needed. I need Larry. I need him telling me he misses me..

Would it be wrong to go back to him? He said sorry... he won't do it again. I know him, he wouldn't.

I just don't know if he loves me like he thinks he does.. I feel like a spare tire. Like he only loves me when he needs me.

But he's always there for me?

God dammit, I don't know. I cover up with the thin blanket and lay down, once again staring at the poster.

Eventually, I fall asleep, thinking of Larry.